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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24641005">John Doe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophicNexus/pseuds/sophicNexus'>sophicNexus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:01:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24641005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophicNexus/pseuds/sophicNexus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"John Doe" is multiple-use name that is used when the true name of a person is unknown or is being intentionally concealed. In the context of law enforcement in the United States, such names are often used to refer to a corpse whose identity is unknown or unconfirmed.<i></i></i>
</p><p>John Egbert has been missing for nearly eight months now. Dave can tell that the police are starting to give up, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get some sort of closure out of this goddamned trauma.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Egbert &amp; Jade Harley, John Egbert &amp; Rose Lalonde, John Egbert/Dave Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>John Doe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>im not sure what the point of me writing this was, but im glad i did it, i think</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You're name is Dave Strider, and your best friend has been missing for nearly eight months. Seven months, twenty-five days, thirteen hours, and forty-four minutes, to be specific. Or somewhere in that ballpark. Time stopped being easy to estimate around three months ago, but who's counting? (You are.)</p><p>You nearly smash your phone in an attempt to turn off the blare of the alarm you set, and your head is pounding with, what you can only describe as, a skullfuck gangbang migraine. You nearly poke your eye out, trying to shove your shades onto your face (the shades John got youdontthinkaboutthat), but you eventually manage to swing your legs out of bed and stare at the morning sky. </p><p>It’s cloudless, but a light breeze still sways the trees. This was (is) the kind of weather that John loved (loves). You scroll through the notifications you’ve accumulated in the past four hours of sleep, as you will your muscles to stand you up. You don’t. </p><p>Rose says that she’s begun putting up flyers in the across the Park District, and Jade has invited the both of you to brunch at Mr. Egbert’s house. You vaguely remember trying to avoid Mr. Egbert as much as you could in the earlier stages of John’s disappearance, for some reason thinking that he would blame you. In an unlikely turn of events, that surprised no one except you, he seems to lean on you for emotional stability, as you do on him. You mentioned this to Rose once, but she’d only raised an eyebrow, and praised your ‘extraordinary empathic abilities of recognizing a father in the midst of a crisis.’ </p><p>You begin to slowly dress, your muscles moving entirely too slow for your liking, but you guess you can blame that on the fatigue. Staying up until near-dawn to post missing flyers on every available patch of space, and frequent checkups at the police stations for updates has its downsides, you suppose. Jade once berated you, saying that ‘John wouldn’t want to see you like this when you find him!’ When you pointed out that she was being kinda guilt-trippy and manipulative, she just forced a granola bar down your throat, and put you in a headlock until you passed out, cold. Damn her freakish strength. </p><p>But you did sleep better after that.</p><p>-=-</p><p> The walk to the Egbert residence took maybe ten minutes, all in all. But it felt like hours to you. Passing innumerable flyers, featuring John’s lopsided, bucktoothed grin, above the Have you seen me? and multiple phone numbers listed always made you kind of sick. This was the only way on which you saw John; a still image, so burned into your memory that if (when) you find him, you doubt you’d even recognize him, unless he was making the same face as the posters.</p><p>You sigh, and resist the urge to tear every damn flyer you see and scream. Your phone buzzes, and you barely have the energy to lift your arm and read the text. It’s from Rose, saying she’s already there, and berating you for being late. You send back a half-assed reply, and shove your phone into your bag, nerves and irritation eating away at your patience. </p><p>When John’s house comes into view, your feet feel heavier than when you started walking, and you stop. When was the last time you even spoke to John’s father? You rack your brain, desperately trying to remember the last time you actually interacted with Mr. Egbert, and the only date coming to mind was more than a month ago: April thirteenth. John’s Birthday. Your head feels fuzzy, and you feel like you might pass out, when your bag vibrates, snapping you out of your trauma-trance. Oh yeah, theres hells of trauma in this ole’ thinkpan. The trauma doesn’t stop. Your brain is on a one-way track to Anguish City, population: you.</p><p>Your bag vibrates again, and your feet begin moving without you telling them too. </p><p>-=-</p><p>John’s house is as wonderfully quaint and terrifying as you remember it to be. Pictures of John and his sister, Jane, are hung up next to tastefully done artwork of harlequins in uncomfortable poses, with tortured faces. Classic Mr. Egbert.</p><p>You are sitting on the couch, next to Rose, while Jade sits in front of the roaring fireplace, despite it being fucking June. You can hear Mr. Egbert in the kitchen, shuffling around, humming, and the thick, cloying smell of cake is in the air. John hated (hates) cake. </p><p>You chance a glance at Rose, but she’s just staring out the window. You can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to run to John’s room, breath in the scent of him that you’ve been missing for seven fucking months, take in the tacky posters of those awful movies he loved (loves), stare at that goddamned eyesore of that magic chest he never got rid of. It’s suddenly too hot in the living room. The scent of cake is practically suffocating you. Now you know why John hates it. You’re about to bolt out of your seat, when Jade stops you dead in your tracks.</p><p>“What if he’s dead?”</p><p>You turn to stare at her back. You can feel Rose do the same, besides you. Everything is silent and still. The roar of the fireplace has gone dull. You swear that Mr. Egbert has stopped humming, and you hold your breath and pray to God, that he didn’t just hear Jade. No one in the living is breathing. A moment later you Mr. Egbert resume humming. You have no idea if he heard Jade.</p><p>“What.” You say. Jade shifts in her seat, but doesn’t turn around.</p><p>“I said,” Jade mumbles. “What if he’s dead?”</p><p>Too many emotions hit you at once. Rage, despair, pain, guilt, and many others begin to bubble inside you, boiling so hot you feel like you’re about to explode.</p><p>“He’s not d-” you stumble over your own words. “Dead.”</p><p>“I know… but what if he is?” Jade has curled up, and is hugging her knees. She still hasn’t turned to look at you. </p><p>“He’s not.” You say, and wow, have you ever sounded more broken? Probably not.</p><p>“Jade,” Rose says, and holy fucking shit, dom mode activated you guess. “Why would you say that?” Rose’s face is as impassive as ever, but you can hear something in her voice. She’s about to break too. Jade finally turns to stare at you and Rose, and there are tears brimming in her green eyes.</p><p>“I just… what would we do? John is… he’s…” Jade gripped her hair, clearly frustrated and upset. Who wasn’t these days?</p><p>“We can’t think about that. We have to believe he’s alive. Him being gone is hard enough to deal with, as it is. Thinking about John being gone, like that, will do nothing but hurt us.” Rose says, and you can feel yourself mutely nodding along to her words, you aren’t really processing what she’s saying.</p><p>Jade doesn’t respond, and you and Rose watch her sob quietly to herself until Mr. Egbert calls the three of you into the kitchen for cake.</p><p>-=-</p><p>You don’t quite remember the walk back to your apartment, or the elevator ride up to your floor. You can vaguely remember having a quick chat with Bro, as you tossed your shit in one corner of the room, but you’ll be damned if someone asked what the hell you two were talking about. </p><p>You trudge into your room and close the door a bit more forcefully than you intended too, and you have a feeling that Bro will beat your ass when you next strife. Oh well. </p><p>You toe off your shoes, and kick off your pants letting them land somewhere in the room. You’ll figure it out later. You idly check your phone as you begin to close your curtains, turn off the fan, all the little things you need to do take a nap. High-maintenance, as John said (says).</p><p>There’s a heartfelt apology from Jade, and a startlingly invigorating text from Rose about not giving up hope, and you message them your agreement before taking off your shades and falling asleep. It may only be two in the afternoon, but you definitely could catch up on your sleep.</p><p>-=-</p><p>You awaken to your phone ringing, and a nighttime sky. You blearily reach for your phone, checking the caller ID. It’s Rose. You have half a mind to ignore her call and go back to sleep, nighttime calls weren’t necessarily uncommon for her after all, but you reluctantly answer anyway.</p><p>“Hello?” You grumble, putting as much annoyance into your voice as you could.</p><p>“DAVE! Ohthankfuckingchristyouansweredand-” Rose is speaking so fast and so loud that you can barely understand her. Theres so much noise coming from her end that for a moment you think that shes in a bar, or club.</p><p>“Rose! Slow down, and stop yelling. What happened?” You ask. You sit up in your bed, trying to keep yourself awake. </p><p>“John has been found Dave!” Rose cries, and yeah, that did it.</p><p>You jump out of bed, asking a million questions a minute, mostly the when and where. Rose instructs you to come down to the hospital, as quick as possible.</p><p>Your heart is beating so hard in your chest that you fear it might explode. You stumble around in the dark, trying to find your pants, before giving up and slipping on your shoes, bolting out of your door in just your red boxer-briefs. You pass Bro, chilling on the futon as you sprint for the door, and your sure he asked a question, but you don’t hear it, pausing only to grab a zip-up hoodie, and shoot out the door. You take the steps to your apartments lobby three at a time, and almost break your face somewhere around the second floor. </p><p>You sprint in the cool night air, faster than you’re sure you’ve ever run before. The temperature is chill, almost cold, but it feels refreshing on your skin as you run. To your memory, the hospital is almost 20 minutes away, and that's by car, but you take a deep breath and run like your life depended on it, which you feel it kinda does.</p><p>You somehow manage to make it to the hospital in just over fourteen minutes, catching your breath right in front of the receptionist, whos staring at you with a mix of annoyance, boredom, and worry. Most likely at your winded, half-naked state, but there are things you care about more than the opinion of some stranger.</p><p>“John Egbert,” You gasp, hands on your knees. “What room is he in?” The receptionist gives you a blank look.</p><p>“I’m sorry sir, but only family and relatives are being allowed in Mr. Egbert's room at the mo-”</p><p>“I’m his boyfriend!I” You hiss, and surprise flashes across the woman's face before it’s gone. She stares at you for a moment.</p><p>“Very well. Follow me.” </p><p>The woman leads you through the hospital, up to the third floor. Doctors, nurses, and patients all stare at you as pass, no doubt wondering what you were doing in just your underwear, but you don’t pay them any mind. Your too focused on seeing John.</p><p>After seven months, John is back. There’s a lot you want to say to him. A lot that you want him to say to you. You’re thoughts are cut short when you almost bump into the receptionist, stopping in front of a plain wooden door. Room 308.</p><p>“Is there anything else you need?” She asks. You shake your head. The woman stares at you for a moment longer, before turning on her heel, and walking back the way you came. You place a hand on the doorknob, your whole arm shaking, your heart beating so loud, it’s in your ears. You turn the knob.</p><p>There are three people standing in front of the hospital bed, preventing you from seeing John. Mr. Egbert, Rose, and Jade. Rose turns to look at you, and though there are tears in her eyes, and a smile on her face, she still raises an eyebrow at your lack of clothing. You don’t pay her any mind as you walk to the foot of John’s bed, every footstep louder than the last.</p><p>Your name is Dave Strider, and you are staring into the love of your life’s eyes, for the first time in seven months.</p><p>“Hi John.” You say.</p><p>“Hi, Dave!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote this to experiment with second person pov, and get more comfortable with my writing. this fic was literally just as test, but i hope you all appreciate it! reviews and kudos are welcomed. as is harsh criticism and bullying :^)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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